


Christmas at Holmes Cottage

by johnlockedstarkid (wholockian007)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sherlock's father is a good man, fake dating trope, some allusions to Mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 18:47:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12777225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wholockian007/pseuds/johnlockedstarkid
Summary: Sherlock doesn't want to have to deal with his mother's wishes for him to find a partner when he goes to visit them for Christmas, so asks John to pose as his boyfriend. Little does he know he's not the only one who wishes that the relationship could be real.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inevitably_johnlocked](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inevitably_johnlocked/gifts).



> This was orignally a series of gift ficlets on tumblr, for inevitably-johnlocked, because they love this trope and I wanted to give them some cute when they were having a bad day.

It was the most embarrassing thing. Sherlock couldn’t believe he was actually about to ask this, but here he was, looking straight at John and taking a breath to speak. “I..have a favor to ask of you.”

“For the last time, Sherlock, no you can’t subject me to any of your experiments,” John replied, not even glancing up from the paper that he was reading. “It’s a bit not good, remember?”

“I thought that was just when I didn’t ask…” Sherlock murmured, frowning slightly before shaking himself. “In any case, that’s actually not what this is about. It’s not about experiments, or cases.“ 

John looked up at that, folding the paper and leaning forward a bit to give Sherlock his proper attention. "Oh? What’s this favor, then? Are we out of your tea?” John had gotten the detective to drink tea regularly whether he was on a case or not just recently, and though he tried to hide it, Sherlock knew he was proud of the accomplishment. “Because you know you don’t have to ask about that. I can buy it whenever you need.”

“No, it’s not that either. It’s… Christmas is soon, you know that, and my parents want myself and Mycroft to visit them over the holiday,” Sherlock started, easing himself into the topic. “And as it was revealed to us two cases ago, Mycroft and Gavin are..together now.”  
  
“It’s Greg, Sherlock,” John interjected.

“Right, yes. Anyway, they’ll undoubtedly be there together, and I don’t want Mummy to fuss over me and say I need to find a partner the entire time. So, I figured maybe you could come along and pretend to be my partner? Just over the holiday, so I don’t have to be the only one there alone?”

John was quiet for a time, processing the request, and the silence made Sherlock nervous. He knew it was risky to ask - John had insisted many times he wasn’t gay, and always corrected people that assumed they were together before - but this silence was worse than the flat out refusal he’d been expecting. At least then he would have had immediate closure and they could go back to being the friends they were without having to contend with the topic of being more than that any longer. The only reason he’d asked was that this was the closest he felt he could get to the real thing with the man he was so achingly in love with.

“…yeah, okay. I’ll do it,” John responded suddenly, pulling Sherlock out of his thoughts. “Everyone should have a better time at Christmas than what that would be for you. But you’re buying the milk for a month after.”

“Thank you, John. I appreciate this.” Sherlock smiled, then stood. “Now I have to go ask Mrs. Hudson to help me pick out Christmas presents.” With that, he was out of the room, before his feelings could betray him.


	2. Chapter 2

The day had arrived for them to head out to the cottage, and John had no idea how he’d let himself get talked into this. It was ridiculous. Pretending to be Sherlock’s boyfriend? 

…well, perhaps he had a bit of an idea how this had happened. Because he’d do just about anything for the man. He’d proven that right from the beginning when he shot the cabbie to save Sherlock’s life, and they were barely even friends then. So of course now, after such a long time knowing him, he’d pretend to be his boyfriend over Christmas. It made perfect sense. He just didn’t want to admit to it.

“Sherlock, did you remember to-?”

“Pack the gift for Mycroft? Yes, I did,” Sherlock replied, and John could practically hear the roll of his eyes as they both climbed into the car that they really should use more often. “Remind me again why we had to bother? He has all the power in the country, and now a partner. What more could he need?”

“It’s not about needing things, Sherlock. It’s because it’s a nice thing to do,” John replied, shaking his head a bit. “If it were about needing things, nobody would ever be surprised by what they get.”

“I’m never surprised by what I get,” Sherlock pointed out.

“Yes, well, you’re a genius, aren’t you? The rest of us aren’t, and we enjoy our surprises. That’s what makes the gifts special,” John said. “Now, since we’re on our way, I need to ask. This fake dating thing… How far are you comfortable with it going?” He wouldn’t complain about anything, but he didn’t want to make Sherlock uncomfortable.

Sherlock hummed, staying quiet for a moment before speaking. “Any sort of casual touching is okay, hand holding is alright, and I’ll be fine with kisses so long as they’re on the cheek or forehead.”

“Right. Okay. That works,” John replied, relieved that he wouldn’t actually have to kiss Sherlock on the lips. There was no way he’d be able to hide his feelings then, and he didn’t want to embarrass himself. “And what about how we got together? What shall we say?”

“You’re better with these things than I am,” Sherlock said, glancing over at him for a moment. “And given how you embellish our cases on your blog, I’m sure you’ll be able to come up with a story my parents will love. I’ll simply follow along with what you say.”

John blinked a bit at that. He didn’t embellish. He told the stories exactly how they were, and made sure to make Sherlock sound as amazing and wonderful and human as he actually was. Taking a breath to say as much, he then thought better. That was such a fond statement, it was probably better left to be said during their act.

“Alright,” he eventually replied. “I think I can manage that. Just remember you’re meant to be agreeing with me. It won’t be as believable if you start analyzing everything that doesn’t make sense about what I say.”

“Of course,” Sherlock nodded. “We don’t need to give Mycroft reason to doubt it; that would ruin the whole thing.”


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock carried himself with complete confidence and ease as he and John walked up the short footpath to the door of his parents’ cottage, holding hands so they could sell the act from the beginning. To anyone else, he would look to be the definition of relaxed. But that couldn’t be further from the truth. Every nerve ending in his hand was on fire from the contact with John’s hand, and he was starting to wonder whether this pretend relationship would actually be more painful than enduring his mother’s comments. But it was too late to go back on the plan now.

As the door opened, his mother beamed at the sight of the two of them together. “Sherlock, John, look at you! I’m so glad you’re finally together. And I’m so glad you’ve finally got someone, Sherlock,” she said, hugging the both of them.

“Yes, I’m glad as well,” Sherlock replied, smiling over at John and feeling his heart leap in his throat at the way John was looking at him. He wished that could be something he saw regularly - and for real. This act really was going to hurt. “Now, may we please come inside?”

“Oh, yes of course,” she replied, stepping back and allowing them in. “Mycroft and Greg are due to be here within the hour. I’m honestly surprised you got here first.”

“That was on me,” John offered up. “I wanted to get here first. I know Greg hasn’t met you before, and I thought he might feel better if he had some other people he already knows around here when they arrive.”

Sherlock looked at John fondly after he heard the explanation, glad his parents were distracting him with their own praises of how thoughtful it was. And he thought he heard something about how miraculous it was that John had gotten him out of the house so easily, but he didn’t care. He would do anything for John. The man was so kind and compassionate; he deserved the best the world could give him. Sherlock just wished he could provide.

“..I’ve left the gifts in the car,” he said as he realized. “I’ll just go and get those.” Fortunately, his keen focus on the act they had to put on allowed him to get a moment alone. He needed to clear his head. His hyperawareness was making this harder on himself, he knew it. “John, could you get me a drink for when I’m back inside?“ 

He barely heard the ‘of course’ before he was outside, taking a deep cleansing breath of the brisk winter air.


	4. Chapter 4

While Sherlock was outside, John prepared drinks for the both of them, having some pleasant conversation with the Holmes parents while he waited. He was very glad in this moment that he had met them once before; it made things a lot less awkward. 

Taking advantage of his relaxed state of mind, he started to think about a story for how they got together. Sherlock had left that to him, so he’d better sound like he knew what he was talking about when they were eventually asked. Just because Sherlock had no interest in him that way didn’t mean he was going to sell the man short. He was going to be the best fake boyfriend he possibly could be. It was the least he could do, really.

As the door opened again, John looked up, smiling as he saw Sherlock - who really had no right to be so adorable with his pale cheeks rose-tinted from the cold. It made him want to go up and kiss him… Wait. He could. He could do that, and for these blessed few days it wouldn’t be weird. So he stood up, taking Sherlock’s drink from where he’d set it down and joining him by the table that held all the gifts.

“Here’s that drink you wanted,” he said, smiling up at the detective. “Oh, and by the way, I really like what the cold does to your cheeks. Makes you look properly adorable.” That said, before he could second guess himself, he leaned in and pressed a light kiss to Sherlock’s cheek, marveling at the feeling of that smooth skin against his lips. 

“I..” Sherlock started, seeming to falter a bit before regaining his composure. “Thank you, John. That’s sweet of you to say. Though I think adorable is a word better used to describe you.”

It was John’s turn to falter at that; he hadn’t been expecting such a smooth return compliment. And Sherlock said he wasn’t as good at these things…

“I’m a soldier, Sherlock,” he murmured, falling back on his usual line. “Soldiers aren’t adorable.”

“Maybe not,” Sherlock replied. “But the John Watson that wears jumpers around our flat and enjoys Chinese takeaway and crap telly after solving cases is.”

“…oh.” Damn, Sherlock was good at this. John could feel the blush spreading across his cheeks, and all he could think about was how much he wished that the detective actually meant what he was saying. “Well, thank you, too..”

Sipping at his drink, John took a step back, trying to fight the blush down before moving back to the chair he’d claimed for the time being. Though the look Sherlock’s father gave him from where he’d been sitting and quietly watching the whole exchange did nothing to help. It almost seemed like the man knew something he didn’t….

Fortunately, he had his drink to distract him, and once that was gone he heard the sound of Mycroft’s car arriving - it was unmistakeable to him now. Sighing softly in relief, he set his glass aside, happy now to fall into the role of the supportive, non-Holmes friend for Greg. That, at least, was something with no layers of pretense to it. And that was exactly what John needed right now.


	5. Chapter 5

John had kissed him.

John had  _kissed_ _him._

Sherlock was amazed that he had managed to return a compliment at all, let alone one that got such a reaction out of the other man. His mind had gone totally offline the moment John’s lips had touched his cheek. 

Taking a hearty sip of his drink, he moved into the room and settled himself on the right side of the sofa, near the chair John had chosen. At this point, he just wanted to be close. He was curious as to how much John could do with this act if given a chance. Might as well make the most of it before they went back home and it was business as usual.

After a few minutes, Mycroft and Greg had been welcomed by his parents, and everyone was settled in the room. There was a bit of conversation between John, Greg, and his parents, but then Mycroft asked the question he’d been anticipating since they’d first arrived.

“So, Doctor Watson, how is it that you and Sherlock got together?”

“Well,” John started, looking over to Sherlock - who could only nod in encouragement - before continuing. “Greg, you remember the case we were on a while ago when Sherlock got too cocky and put himself in serious danger because he thought he could handle those three professionally trained martial artists and their henchmen alone?”

“Yeah, I remember that.” Greg nodded. “I remember you were worried sick about him too.”

“I was. And I made sure he knew that it was definitely not good to run off on his own like that, especially after…” John trailed off, the allusion to Reichenbach and the two years that followed heavy in the air. And the expression on his face made Sherlock’s heart ache. He knew now that he had caused so much pain with that decision, and he still felt really horrible that he had done something even remotely close to it again. Even if he honestly hadn’t made the connection at the time.

“Anyway. I know you heard me when I was mad at him,” John continued. “But later, after I’d had some time to calm down, I… I told him I was only upset because of how much I care about him; how he means more to me than life itself, and how I never want to risk losing him again..”

Sherlock smiled, love in his gaze as he looked over at John, laced with just a trace of pain over the fact that none of this had ever happened. It wasn’t real, and never would be, but oh how he wished it could have been. “Then I told him how sorry I was, and that I would never leave him like that. Because I care about him too. So very much,” he added, giving in to the urge to reach over and place his hand over John’s. And the look John gave him when he looked over and their gazes met was well worth it. It felt like time had stopped; like they were the only two people in the world and nothing else mattered because they would always be together.

But all too soon the moment had gone, as John looked away and focused back on the rest of their company. “Since then, we’ve been taking things kind of slow, but the feelings are there.”

Sherlock nodded in agreement, heart leaping as he felt John twist his hand to properly hold his own. It was so natural; why was this not how they actually were together??

He was so caught up in his own feelings that he barely noticed how the story had made his mother tear up. John had done his job, that was for sure, but the fact that it was a job and not just the truth made him hurt. 


	6. Chapter 6

The next couple of days went by without too much issue, John thought. If Mycroft had any doubts, he didn’t say anything, and everyone was getting on well. Greg got used to the Holmes family rather quickly - it helped that their parents were much more ordinary than the brothers - and him and Sherlock kept up their act almost naturally at this point.

It wasn’t until Christmas evening, after dinner, that things took a turn. Sherlock had gone off somewhere, John didn’t know where, so he went to the others to ask them. Greg and Mycroft didn’t know, but the Holmes father did. 

“Oh, he went upstairs. Said something about needing to find a place to store his gifts,” the man said, a twinkle in his eye as he spoke. John supposed it was the wine. “Maybe you should go help him. He has a tendency to take a while to sort new things into his systems. One year we got him some new socks and he spent over an hour reorganizing that sock index of his.”

John had to laugh at that, shaking his head fondly. “Yeah, that sounds like him. I’ll go see what I can do.”

Making his way up the stairs, he went into Sherlock’s room, bumping into the man in the doorway. “Oh, hey. You all set with sorting your gifts?” he asked, but it looked like Sherlock didn’t even hear him. “Sherlock? Everything all right?”

“John. Look up.” The detective hadn’t moved his gaze, and when John directed his upward, he understood why. 

Mistletoe.

“How did… I swear that wasn’t there yesterday,” John said, frowning in confusion. 

“No, it wasn’t,” Sherlock agreed. “I suspect it was Mummy’s doing. She does like to be a bit overzealous with it.”

“But why here?” John didn’t understand. “Seems a bit out of the way.”

“Probably ran out of other doorways. She has way too much of the stuff.”

“Ah.” Nodding a bit, John brought his gaze back down and shrugged a little. “Well, if you’re done up here I suppose we can just head back down,” he said, turning a bit and making to step away when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“John, wait,” Sherlock said, voice softer now as his gaze moved to meet John’s own.

“What? Were you coming to get me to help, is that it?” John asked, figuring that was the only deduction that made sense. They’d both agreed that they didn’t have to keep up the couple act when nobody else was around, so he didn’t think that was it.

“No, no, I actually am done. That was an impressive deduction, though, given the circumstances. But incorrect. You lack all the context.”

“Well, what is it, then?” John asked, feeling a surge of hope in his chest. Though he quickly pushed it down; he’d known going in that this was all fake.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you, that I’ve been wanting to say since we’ve been here, and even a lot longer than that. But I haven’t; I’ve been, well, scared…”

“Sherlock, what-?” John started, but Sherlock put a finger to his lips and he stopped immediately. 

“Please, John, just let me continue. I.. I need to say it now, and I need to say it all at once.” Sherlock waited until John nodded in understanding, then lowered his hand. “You know I don’t make friends easily. I tried, but people never stayed, so I just stopped trying. Until Mike set us up as roommates. I felt like I had a chance at being your friend. Then one crime scene and a chase across London later I was entirely committed and devoted to doing all I could to be your friend. Even if it didn’t always seem like I was trying that hard, I was doing my best.”

“Then when I, er,  _left,_  I didn’t say anything to you because I really cared about you. You were my best friend, and though I wished I could have said something, I was scared you would get hurt. I never truly knew how many men Moriarty had watching you, and I didn’t want to think about what they might have been able to do if they had any idea that I was alive and had interacted with you. I know now that what I put you through was far worse than what I had imagined, and I really am sorry.”

“After things got back to normal, and your therapist helped you to see that Mary was doing you no good, I didn’t expect anything to change. We were friends again, and I was happy. But it did change. I.. I’m in love with you, John. I have been for, well, a while. Longer perhaps than I even know. But I never dared to say because of how many times you corrected people who thought we were a couple, and that almost scared me out of asking you to come here with me. The reason I did is because, for a little while, I wanted to know what it would feel like if we were really together. Instead though, all I’ve been able to focus on is how much it hurts that this isn’t real.”

John blinked a few times as he took in everything Sherlock had said, his mind buzzing yet simultaneously stuck on one point. Sherlock Holmes just told him that he loved him. Laughing incredulously, he looked up at Sherlock with a bewildered smile. “Sherlock, I.. Where do I start?”

“I only corrected people because I was convinced that you had no desire for this. That first night at Angelo’s, I thought you were basically saying you weren’t interested in any aspect of an intimate relationship.”

“Then why did you always insist you weren’t gay?” Sherlock asked.

“Hardwired and instinctive response from when I was growing up. My parents were shit. My dad especially. He drove Harry to drink - not Clara - and I was never brave enough to be who I was around them like she had been. Besides, I’m bi. Not gay.”

“So then.. Are you saying..what I think you’re saying?”

“Sherlock, you daft genius, yes. I love you too,” John said, beaming up at the detective - his detective - with so much more emotion in his gaze than he’d allowed himself to show since they’d arrived. 

“Then that makes us a couple,” Sherlock said with a grin that was just as bright. “And I believe there’s a rule about couples standing under mistletoe, is there not?”

John laughed. “Yes. Yes there is. Y'know, I completely forgot that was up there.” Rolling his eyes fondly, he moved so he was properly sharing Sherlock’s space, pulling him down by his shirt collar and kissing him. It was heavenly, and if it weren’t for the fireworks coursing through his entire being he might have thought he was only dreaming.


	7. Chapter 7

The kiss was unlike anything Sherlock had ever imagined. He knew it would be amazing, but this was even better than he’d anticipated. He felt simultaneously calm and ecstatic, peaceful and elated, and the warmth that filled his entire body was the most comforting thing he had ever felt.

“John,” he murmured softly, fondly, as he brought his hand up to cup his cheek. He had more that he wanted to express, but for once he just could not find the words. 

“Yeah. I get it,” John said in reply, and the way he was looking up at him made Sherlock want to melt. Finally, what he’d wanted for so long had happened, despite all the odds that he’d thought were against him. 

Leaning in for another, softer kiss, Sherlock then took John’s hand in his own. “Come on. We should go downstairs.” When John nodded, he moved out of the doorway, smiling at the feel of John’s hand in his own. Physically, it was no different to all the other times they’d held hands, but it felt so much better now that it was  _real._

As they returned downstairs, Sherlock noted his father sitting nearby and watching them but thinking nothing of it. But John paused, causing him to stop as well and turn back in confusion. 

“You,” John said, pointing over to the older man. “It wasn’t your wife, it was you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied, looking over to the two of them with a cheery smirk. 

Sherlock blinked, the pieces falling into place. His father always had been more emotionally intelligent. He must have noticed how he and John really felt, and had made an effort to play matchmaker for them.

“Sure you don’t.” John shook his head a bit, squeezing Sherlock’s hand. “I’m gonna go get us some drinks, alright?”

“Of course. Thank you, John,” Sherlock replied, watching as he walked off before moving over to his father. “Thank you, too,” he murmured. “That was exactly what I needed.”

“Think nothing of it. I might not be as book smart as your mother is, but I could see the way you two were looking at each other. All you needed was a little nudge in the right direction.”

“Still, thank you.” Sherlock smiled, hesitating a moment before giving his father a quick hug. Then he moved back, joining John as he returned so they could settle together on the sofa.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night, as John entered the bedroom they’d been sharing and joined him on the bed, Sherlock sighed softly, a small grin pulling at his lips as he felt an arm wrapping around his waist. “You were right John.”

“Mm?”

“You said surprises make gifts more special. You were right. Your love was the biggest surprise and the most special gift I received today.“ 

John chuckled fondly, shifting to press his chest against Sherlock’s back. "Told you so,” he said before yawning and nuzzling in to make himself more comfortable. “Goodnight Sherlock. Love you.”

“I love you too, John.”


End file.
